Untitled
by Ashley M. Z
Summary: Due to an unknown potion, Draco Malfoy falls into a deep sleep for a very long time while on vacation in America. He wakes up, the earth is practically dead, there is no real food, the air is extremely polluted, money is everything, and wizard kind is practically obsolete. So what does he do, he adjusts his life to fit the muggles, gets an education, and joins the Avatar program


**Finding His Life**

 **Summary:** Due to an unknown potion, Draco Malfoy falls into a deep sleep for a very long time while on vacation in America. He wakes up, the earth is practically dead, there is no real food, the air is extremely polluted, money is everything, and wizard kind is practically obsolete. So what does he do, he adjusts his life to fit the muggles, gets an education, and joins the Avatar program. Slash. M/M. Draco/Tsu'tey or Jake, I haven't decided yet.

 **Disclaimer** I don't own Harry Potter or Avatar, that honor goes to J.K. Rowling and James Cameron.

 **A/N:** I wrote this a really long time ago, I don't think that I'll continue with it but let me know what you think.

-x-

Draco Malfoy thought it would be easier for him after the defeat of Voldemort. He thought he might actually be able fall asleep at night. He thought he would be able to fade into obscurity and live his life in peace. He thought he might be able to close his eyes and not see flashes of _terror_ and _pain pain pain_. He thought that he wouldn't always wake up in the middle of the night, every night, screaming from the nightmares and memories. He thought he'd be able to get through the day without his hands starting to shake uncontrollably. He thought he wouldn't feel like he's been hit by a bludger at the sound of someone saying _his_ name anymore. He thought he'd be able to be _happy_ for once.

He thought wrong.

He wasn't happy. His nightmares didn't go away. His hands still shook just as much as before. Not even after Potter spoke for his mother and him at their trials, and they were cleared of all charges, did he feel anything but lifeless.

So, Draco did the only he could think of. He packed his trunk, spelled to be bigger on the inside, with more than he thought he may need because he had never been very good at moderation. He stopped at Gringotts to get a hefty bag of galleons, and although it pained him, some money converted to muggle money.

Telling his mother in note probably wasn't the best way, but she has been doing so well lately, without the influence of his father and the crushing weight of everything that his father brought with him. But he _knew_ , he knew that if he told her in person he'd never get away. She would beg him to stay and he would listen because he can't bare the thought of hurting her so. At least this way, Draco could pretend that she would not be upset at the thought of him leaving and having no set time of return. He _needed_ to get away, needed to go somewhere without all the memories. He needed _time_.

So he grabbed his packed trunk, his wand, and his mother's favorite necklace, and he _left_.

-x-

Getting to America wasn't the difficult part. It was a lot easier than Draco was expecting. He had gotten the portkey before he wrote the letter to his mother, well, actually he convinced Potter to get it for him because of the whole "ex-death eater" thing, and he didn't think he'd be welcomed anywhere near the ministry.

No, the difficult part was actually being in America because once he got there; he realized he'd put absolutely no thought into this. Landing in a small wizarding community with no prior knowledge of the place wasn't his best idea, and it didn't occur to him until after he'd gotten there that he probably should've figured out where he was headed beyond just _America_. He has no plans. Draco didn't know the first thing about the States, but he'll do what he's always done, he'll survive.

-x-

For the next few years Draco traveled across America, never staying in one place long, but always committing the scenery to memory, and realizing quite quickly that traveling through muggle places usually resulted in less questions.

Gradually, without him ever really noticing the shaking subsided gradually into phantom tremors. The nightmares went from several times every night to maybe once a month.

California was he went early on in his trip and was probably his least favorite place that he's been yet. He just didn't fit in.

("Why is he so pale?"

"How'd he get his hair that color? How do I get mine that color?")

It also resulted in really bad sunburns. Thankfully he learned early on to wear a thing muggles called sunblock.

One night Draco was walking up and old dirt path. He knew it was old because there was grass growing in patches all along the sides, there were fallen logs and overgrown trees in his way, and no clear markings of human habitation. If Draco had been the same person that he was growing up, he would have steered clear of anything that may ruin his bubble of _safe_ and _familiar_. But he was not the same person he was then, and so he wander up said path to a destiny that he never imagined may be possible.


End file.
